


Collection of Prompts and Requests

by Shay_Moonsilk



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Western, Cute, Fluff, Gen, Kissing, M/M, Wild West AU, someone gets lassoed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 00:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk/pseuds/Shay_Moonsilk
Summary: This is a series of drabbles from requests that came either over Discord or Tumblr.Chapter One: Crowley and Aziraphale live in the Wild Western Village of Tadfield, and Crowley's returned home from weeks away. (Someone gets lassoed)





	Collection of Prompts and Requests

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request I got via discord for a Wild West AU! There was artwork I saw of Crowley lasso-ing Aziraphale that I LOVED and it inspired this.

For all the dust out and about, Aziraphale rather _liked_ living in the small town of Tadfield. It was a quiet sort of place, and despite living out in the vast desert, the weather was perfectly lovely all year round. The summers were unbearable, of course, and the winters were absolutely dreadful, but that was to be expected and it was all perfectly in line with what a western frontier was to hold. And the elements that made it all worth living had nothing to do with the weather. 

He had his library, that was run out of the schoolhouse. To fill the hours he helped Anathema teach the children, and they alternated lessons. She was particularly skilled at alchemy, chemistry, and maths. Aziraphale would help them with their reading, writing, and was rather adept at biology, astronomy, and plants. Which he’d learned from a very _specific_ man, late at night when Aziraphale would let himself be tempted to lay out under the stars and listen to stories about old legends. Or by watching Anthony Crowley tend to the plants at their home, or care for the snake that lived in the absurd habitat in their little greenhouse. Aziraphale soaked up everything his lover would tell him, taking those lessons in turn and teaching them to the students who adored him for it. 

Not that they spent everyday together. Sometimes Crowley would go for days, or even _weeks_ at a time, atop his horse to do work out ranching and herding. He was rather skilled at picking up seemingly dangerous jobs trapping bulls, or being contracted to hunt outlaws that the sheriff and his cronies couldn’t go after because they were needed in town. 

Crowley had been gone for the last several weeks and Aziraphale missed him _terribly_. So he dedicated whole days - and sometimes nights - teaching and cleaning the schoolhouse and library. And only leaving to feed their snake or the plants, and rarely slept. He _hated_ sleeping in that large bed without Crowley. It just didn't feel _right. _

“Just take the day off!” Anathema pleaded to him. The children were on a break, eating lunch and running about in the yard behind the building. Aziraphale was straightening up the classroom, getting ready to put out different primers for reading comprehension. He had promised he would read to them all if they behaved in the next hour, though the children knew he would read anyway. 

“And break a sacred promise to our children? I don’t want to _disappoint_ them.” He tutted at her. 

Anathema rolled her eyes. “I can read just as well as you can,” was the chosen retort. Which, true, but that wasn't really the point was it? 

“But you don’t do the voices,” This came from Warlock, who was standing at the back of the room. The five year old _cowed_ under her intense stare, but Aziraphale gave him a warm smile.

“Absolutely right my dear by,” He said, turning to Anathema triumphantly, “I do the _better_ voices.” 

“But not for the _girl_ characters,” Pepper chimed in, followed by the rest of the school children. 

It was odd for children to eagerly come back into the school following a break, but this was the only school in Tadfield, and these children didn’t have a model for what a ‘typical’ classroom consisted of. Also, the banter between the two teachers was entertaining and the children enjoyed watching it. Most adults tried to placate them, or talk down to them, but Mrs. Pulsifer-Device (she hyphenated because she was a _modern_ woman) and Mr. Fell did no such thing. They talked to each other, and to them, just the same. All questions were taken seriously, and explanations were given with no sugarcoating, and with seemingly infinite patience. 

“But he’s not a girl,” Wensleydale argued.

Pepper scoffed at him. “I know that _stupid_ but it’s not an excuse to not clearly define underrepresented characters in a scholastic medium.” 

Quickly, Aziraphale chimed in. “Now, now, Pepper,” He said, intervening quickly before she and Wensleydale could start fighting - again. “You _know_ we don’t like name-calling.”

She bowed her head and gave a grumpy sort of apology. 

“Nevertheless,” Aziraphale continued, “You are _right_, and I _promise_ for this to be something I will work on. And I will try to get better at it with practice, so you all need to do a very good job behaving now, I got a new book in, and I think you will enjoy it very much!” 

The children do behave, because Aziraphale always has the _best_ books and even if he doesn’t do the female voices as well, he’s still the best story-reader in town. 

So it’s with great reluctance that Anathema dismisses them all for dinner, hours later, when they are well into _Treasure Island_, a new release that they are all enjoying very much. Most of the children scamper off, but a few beg for at least a few more pages. Of course, it's Warlock, Brian, Pepper, Adam, and Wensleydale. Pepper's mother works hard at a local apothecary, and sometimes gets too caught up to handle pick up on her own. Wensleydale's parents and brothers work at a nearby farm, meaning it's up to him to go back on his own. Brian and Adam's dads work at a bank, and their mother's help out there, so they are instructed to walk back home as well. Warlock's father is the mayor, and usually he and his wife are playing host to some _important_ family at the town's only saloon. 

And Aziraphale knows this, but it's so hard to dismiss children that are so eager to learn, and even Anathema can't bring herself to say no when they want to keep reading.  Adam even manages to read a few of the pages _himself_, and the burst of pride that Aziraphale feels almost tempers out how lonely he has been. 

“Alright,” Anathema says, not able to hide her own smile. “It looks like we’re taking the five of you to your parents. And the stores are all closed by now, so where should we start for you, Warlock?” Not in any particular rush to leave them or his friends, Warlock gives a careless shrug to delay having to go anywhere. 

“Probably _Madame Tracey’s_,” Brian guesses. Which is a safe guess, as it’s the only Saloon in town. 

So they all finish straightening out the room, and Anathema is beginning to lead them all down the street in that direction as Aziraphale locks up. As he does, the teacher contemplates asking her to grab a drink with him, as her husband - the bartender of that very saloon - will most likely be working late that night. And he's in no rush to return back to that empty house with the lovely snake and silent houseplants, where it's dark and cold. 

But as he opens his mouth to make her the offer, Aziraphale gets distracted by a flurry of _movement_. 

_Something_ fell down his vision, and his chest suddenly _tightened_ as rope constricted around him and _pulled_. Startled, he lost his footing as he was jerked back and would have fallen over had a pair of strong and _familiar_ arms not caught him. 

Around him, the children cried out - at first in shock, then in delighted surprise. Anathema even laughed, loudly. 

Even as he fell backwards, _lassoed_ by _rope_ of all things, Aziraphale knew _exactly_ who it was - who would pull such a ridiculous gesture. Desperately, he tried not to swoon - though he suspected it was a little late for that. 

"Heya Angel, miss me?" 

And oh how his heart _soared_. 

Despite the utter joy he felt, Aziraphale was quick to school his expression into something stern. Must set a good example for the children, after all. 

_"Anthony J. Crowley!"_ He scowled, "Unhand me this instant you foul fiend!" 

"Oh, foul fiend am I?" Crowley teased, and oh he just looked so _dashing_ with his hair windswept, and tanned from so many days out and about in the great plains and with such a self-satisfied _smirk_. "A demon too, I expect?"

It was an old joke he was so terribly fond of. That someone with such patience to teach children and let their partner go about on odd jobs for weeks on end was some sort of _angel_, and for all of his inability to stay grounded for too long and his penchant for harmless mischief his dear liked to imagine himself as quite the _demon_. It was utter bollocks of course but Anthony was allowed the harmless fantasy. 

Aziraphale scoffed, unable to hold back his joy any longer. "Just let me up," he pleaded with a breathless smile that had nothing to do with the rope around him, "So that I may _properly_ welcome you back home."

"Oh. But I _like_ you like this, all tied up for me," Crowley teased, but all the same he released Aziraphale from the rope. 

Delighted, Aziraphale wasted no time in pulling the other man closer into a passionate embrace, and they collectively ignored the dismayed cries from the children, and Anathema, around them. Crowley grinned, deepening the kiss, pushing forward as Aziraphale went to pull _away,_ into quite the _dramatic_ dip. 

"Welcome home," Aziraphale whispered, as if they were the only two there. "How long do I have you for, my dear?” 

It was a question he asked every time his love came back to him. 

“As long as you want me,” Crowley answered, as he answered him every time. It wasn’t necessarily true, but it was at the same time it _was_ true. 

“_Alright_!” Anathema called out, “Everyone under ten is coming with me, you’re all too young to see such things.”

“And you think _Madame Tracey’s_ is much holier?!” Crowley jeered, but Aziraphale pulled him back in with another kiss. 

They did that as the rest of the group wandered off, just letting themselves hold each other again. 

“Did your job go well, then?” Aziraphale finally asked, smiling up at him. 

Crowley nodded. “Stopped by the Sheriff's before _roping_ you in,” He winked, and Aziraphale snorted in derision. “Paid me well too, even though he didn’t actually _want_ to.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. The Sheriff, Gabriel Archangel, was decent enough at making sure their little town was safe, but when troublemakers left the city he always relied on Crowley to go after them and catch them. He wasn’t in law enforcement - _not his thing_ \- as his lover liked to say, but he had his own brand of mischief that worked well enough for him to catch wanted thieves. Gabriel paid well, which was why Crowley even took the offered jobs, but the sheriff always treated his lover with such disdain for taking on “uncivilized” work. Nevermind he _offered_ the very work. 

“Well, at least you got paid, and you’re here with me.” Aziraphale said, and Crowley agreed by placing a kiss to his temple. 

It was at that moment when something nosed at Aziraphale’s back, and he turned to smile at Crowley’s trusted horse. 

“Oh _hello_ Bentley,” He cooed, stroking the horse’s nose. Bentley gave a satisfied whinny at the acknowledgement, nosing at him again. Crowley scoffed. 

“Yes, yes, we _both_ missed you,” Crowley said, affectionately yet _firmly_ lowering Bentley’s head away. He then offered his arm to Aziraphale to get him on top of the horse, and Aziraphale blushed and took the offered hand. Crowley then swiftly mounted the horse behind him. 

“Madame Tracey’s, Angel?” He offered, and Aziraphale smiled, leaning back on him. Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale's waist, spurring the horse into moving toward the saloon. 

“Madame Tracey’s.” He agreed, and they trotted off together. 

\--------

Music was playing and the tavern was full of people, a few of whom even called out to them in welcome - Anathema included. Aziraphale gave a cheery wave, but found himself pulled to a table in the corner. Crowley pulled him close, and the teacher smiled, leaning on him. 

"I miss anything interesting Angel?" He asked waving over one of Madame Tracey's barmaids with a motion of 'two', indicating an order for her house brown. 

"Oh, nothing really," Aziraphale said, "Just the same goings-on. Minister Shadwell came here yesterday, shouting that this place was a den of sin and iniquity. He preached at us all for a bit until Madame Tracey calmed him down with her whiskey." 

Crowley snorted, and nosed at his curls. "Typical. Anything else?"

"A new book came in," Aziraphale brightened, showing him the copy of _Treasure Island_ that he'd tucked into his waistcoat from before. "I started reading it to the students, I think you'd like this one my dear." 

"Read it to me later then," Crowley replied, running his fingers up and down Aziraphale's arm. "You do better voices anyway."

They were interrupted by Madame Tracey herself, there to give them their drinks. "Oh _hello _you dears," She cooed, placing them down. "Now, Mr. Crowley, I can't believe you would just drop back in town without giving me a _proper _hello!" 

"Wouldn't _dream_ of it," Crowley soothed, getting up to give her a proper hug. Aziraphale snickered as Madame Tracey gave a rather _exaggerated _swoon, and playfully pushed him away. 

"Now now you dreadful creature," She said endearingly, "Do make sure _this_ young man," and here she looked rather _pointedly_ at Aziraphale, "eats _something_, would you?"

Crowley narrowed his eyes, sitting back down as Aziraphale tried to subtly shift away. It didn't work. "What does that mean, angel?" 

"Nothing!" Aziraphale stammered, but Tracey rolled her eyes. 

"He's hardly been here while you were away! I don't know _how _he has held up, and I barely even saw him outside that schoolhouse!" 

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!" Aziraphale cried out, only that was the moment when his stomach let out a rather _pointed _growl. "Traitor!" He hissed, glaring down. 

"Then will you help us?" Crowley asked, pulling Aziraphale close again. 

She gave a determined nod. "You better be back here a while," She said, rather sternly, "And look after our poor teacher!" 

Aziraphale spluttered, and Crowley pressed another kiss to his temple. "'Course I will." He murmured. 

"I've been perfectly fine," Aziraphale stressed, ignoring the doubtful look he got. "My dear, I just don't like coming here without you. I purchased food from the general store, and cooked when I felt the need." 

"You hardly ever do that," Crowley grumbled. 

"I'll not have you feeling guilty over _working!"_ Aziraphale replied. 

"He doesn't sleep regularly, either," Anathema said, walking passed them and ignoring the glare Aziraphale was sending her. 

"She is a _liar," _Aziraphale called out, loudly, and she just laughed and waved him off without looking at her. "And she _doesn't read out loud as well as I do."_

Crowley snorted, but a shadow crossed over his face, and Aziraphale's. 

"Hope you're not causing _trouble_ tonight, schoolteacher." Sheriff Gabriel was saying, looking down at them both. 

"Not at all," Aziraphale said, tone going cold but polite. 

Sandalphon, the deputy, gave them both doubtful sneers but went to get drink at the bar. Uriel and Michael, also officers, went with him. 

"Thank you, Mr. Crowley, for your _work_ the past few weeks." Gabriel said, giving him a nod. Crowley gave a nod back. "Hope you'll stick around for the fair coming up."

"I plan to," Anthony Crowley answered, staring at him coolly. 

With one last _look_ the sheriff stalked towards the bar. Aziraphale let out a small _huff. _

_"_He's just... so much," Aziraphale hissed, and Crowley gave a chuckle. 

"Don't get too bitey now," He teased, and Aziraphale leaned back into him. 

"You'll stay through the fair, then?" Aziraphale asked, trying to play off casually. The _look_ he got told him that was unsuccessful. 

"Of course. Gabriel paid well, shouldn't have to go anywhere for a while yet," Crowley said with a grin.

They enjoyed the rest of the night, eating the delicious food Madame Tracey brought out for them. Minister Shadwell showed up, yelling at them all for _indulging _in such a seedy place until he was invited to a poker game that Hastur and Ligur were dealing. Music played, and at some later point Crowley was able to tempt Aziraphale into a lovely number, and they spun around the room together. 

Later, when Tracey kicked everyone out, they walked arm and arm, with Bentley trotting about with them back to their home. Crowley greeted his snake, Freddie, and hissed threats at his plants to make sure they had behaved properly for his Angel. 

Blushing, Aziraphale pulled him into a kiss to give him a _proper_ welcome back home. Crowley grinned, and followed him into their bedroom. 

It was good to be back. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have a request, drop one by me either here, on discord (I'm Shay Moonsilk) or my tumblr, GoodOmensAndRecreation! 
> 
> Any comments, questions, concerns? Let me know!!! I am open to learning and growing and love meeting ya'll :)


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